A Fortunate Encounter
by ZaraShade
Summary: An impromptu sequel to 'A Fortunate Accident', though you don't need to read that one. Nikola finds Helen somewhat tipsy at a hotel conference. Teslen.
1. Chapter 1

**An impromptu sequel to 'A Fortune Accident' (thought you don't have to have read that one), because flighty Helen is too much fun. This isn't flighty Helen, but enter tipsy (cough smashed cough) Helen. **

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Nikola was sulking. No, sulking seemed such a tame word for the master of such things. He could say proudly that he had developed and perfected the art of sulking in his century and a half on the planet. He was staying in a nice five-star hotel, of course, and had grown tired of the interior of his room. There was only so many bottles of room service wine he could order without raising suspicions. So, he had dragged himself from the comfort of his seclusion to amble downstairs to the bar. The upside was it was an exclusive hotel so there wouldn't be any riff-raff running about, or children most likely.

It was past eleven o'clock at night, but there were people dressed in business suits milling about tipsily. He groaned. A conference of all things to be going on while he was staying there. He would most definitely be checking out tomorrow and finding another lovely five-star location. Perhaps he'd try France.

Nikola all-but growled as a small group of obviously drunk men and women in suits rushed past him to the elevators, hands all over each other. Disgusting, the lot of them.

Perhaps his disgust was because of his obsession with feeling dirty, he mused as he compulsively wiped his hands on his handkerchief. He didn't want to admit to himself that it was probably more likely due to his frustration with the reason for his current sulk, a certain blue-eyed Doctor who specialised in all things abnormal.

He sighed and headed into the bar, thankful to see that it was at least almost empty. It appeared most of the conference goers were either already too drunk, diligently sleeping, or having 'discreet' amorous liaisons in each other's hotel rooms. Either way he was thankful and went over to sit at the bar. He ordered a glass of wine.

He was just up to sniffing the wine when his ears prickled. A beautiful melodious laugh had drifted across the room. He knew that laugh. He would know that laugh anywhere. It, along with its owner, had imprinted itself on his heart over a century ago.

Nikola turned to see none other than Helen Magnus sitting at a small table surrounded by a group of men in business suits. They all appeared a bit tipsy at least. His blood boiled at the sight of his Helen flirting with these men. He almost vamped-out then and there.

He didn't have time to wonder at the odds of both of them being in the same bar in this hotel at the same time of all the places in the world at this time. It was absurd. But she seemed to have spotted him, and her eyes lit up. She was obviously not on her first drink he noted as she called (no, squealed) his name excitedly and waved her hand. Her male suitors glared at him.

"Nicky!" she squealed. Yes, the great Helen Magnus had squealed twice within the span of thirty seconds. Nicky, that was a new one too.

She was obviously too far gone to consider the odd coincidence of them both being there.

Nikola went over to join them with his wine glass, more so he could fight off any of her suitors who could take advantage of her. He was the only one allowed to do that. Not that he ever would take advantage of her in her state. For all his bravado, Nikola was still a gentleman, mostly.

"Nicky, Nicky" she grabbed his arm as soon as he got in reach, and he had to appreciate the tight black dress she was wearing. He could feel the glares of the business-suit-wearing men around her table and smirked.

"Helen," he drawled, trying to act casual despite the fact he felt as though his skin might actually turn green with envy. "What a coincidence."

"Niko, these are my friends... um..." she said, pausing to think about that one, "Conference guys..." she giggled. She then frowned at the man in the seat next to her, who she had previously been enjoying the attentions of.

She reached out and shoved him off the chair rather cutely, before tugging Nikola down in his place. Nikola almost chuckled at the act. It was almost akin to that of a child who had decided someone else in the kindergarten was their new favourite.

"Niko gets to sit here," she smiled, happily holding onto his arm.

"Helen, who is this guy?" one of her men said. Nikola glared at him. He was tall (maybe almost as tall as Johnny) with dark hair and eyes.

"This is my oldest friend," she said excitedly, "Nicky you can do shots with us!"

He wasn't sure when it had happened, but a round of shots had appeared on the table, and Helen shoved one in front of him. Never let it be said that even drunk Helen Magnus was an intimidating force, and so he had no choice but to take the shot.

"Do you remember," she slurred, leaning on him, not really caring that one of the men sitting on her other side hand his hand on her thigh, "When we were drinking wine in my house and then my father came home and we were drunk? Oh! I love this song!"

She grabbed his hand and dragged him up, tugging him along with her to the make-shift 'dance floor' in the room. Her male suitors eyed him jealously.

Helen immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed dangerously close to his as she swayed to the music. He had no idea how she could even stand upright in those ridiculously high heels of hers let alone dance, but this was Helen, and she was leaning on him for support.

She twirled away from him and stumbled, he caught her arm and she giggled, falling back onto him. Her curves were pressed against him and he groaned. This woman was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

"My hero," she grinned, placing a kiss on his lips.

"Helen, we have more shots," one of the men said, in an effort to lure the sexy Brit back to their table.

It seemed to have worked as Helen stumbled back over, as Nikola trailed behind ready to catch her if she fell.

Her eyes lit up. He didn't like that. She was always up to something when her eyes lit up like that.

He saw the piece of lime in her hands and the wicked grin, and when he opened his mouth to protest (and perhaps suggest she'd had enough to drink already) she placed the lime on his lips, forcing him to bite into it. She grinned pushing him onto a stool and pushing his torso back so that he was leaning with his back to the table at an angle.

She straddled him, sprinkling some salt over the exposed skin of his upper chest where she'd been playing with the buttons before. He'd barely noticed that she had. He grabbed one of her wrists but she ignored him. She leaned down and licked the salt off his chest, causing him to bite back a groan as he felt her hot tongue dance over the muscles there. His pants were becoming uncomfortable as she squirmed around on top of him too.

There was a pause as she downed the tequila shot before she'd pressed against him to take the lime. Her hand fell on his chest, her other wrist still encased in his long fingers, and her body moving around far too much over his.

"I'm glad you're here, Niko," she said, softly, after spitting out the lime and discarding it. She leaned forward once more, hair falling in a dark curtain, as she slowly licking a bit of lime juice that had dribbled down his chin.

He groaned and she eyed him seductively. The minx. He was getting so caught up in her, the way her body felt against his, and the feel of her tongue on his skin. He had to stop her before it went too far. She was drunk and he couldn't take advantage of her like that. But he couldn't leave her here either, one of these buffoons dressed in suits would surely take the opportunity. Especially judging by the way they were eyeing him as though they would quite possibly consider trying to remove him.

Nikola grabbed her other wrist and pushed her back lightly, enough to sit up without making her fall and hurt herself. She jolted a little, but his hand wrapped instinctively around her waist as she emitted a little squeak in surprise. She was now sitting on his lap.

"Come on," he said, "I think you've had enough."

She pouted and gazed at him with wide blue eyes. Yes, she was definitely going to be the death of him. Why was he so weak when all she did was bat her eyes at him? He was so 'whipped' as Wolf-boy had so kindly stated.

"Not enough of you," she mumbled, kissing him again. He could get used to that, when she was sober of course. "You taste good." She added, simply.

"Come on," he said, standing. She yelped at the sudden change in position, but his hold on her waist was strong even if she was leaning almost fully on him now. "Let's get you upstairs."

"Oh," she giggled, "You just want to get me into bed, Nikola Tesla!"

She prodded him chest for emphasis.

She let him help her out of the room, much to the (loud) protest of her entourage of eager drooling men. He was glad when he'd got her to the elevator away from their leering eyes.

He didn't know where her room was, so he took her up to his, he didn't think she was in any state to tell him. Nor did she seem to mind. She probably hadn't even noticed.

As soon as he got the door open, for which he'd let go of her for, she bounced into his room and flung herself on the bed. The child-like glee on her face as she discovered the softness of the pillows warmed his heart once he'd come into the bedroom. It reminded him so much of the more carefree Helen of Oxford.

"Nicky come feel how soft the pillows are!" she said, in wonder.

She had that too innocent look in her eyes. He knew that look too. It usually meant that she was plotting something and she was trying to look innocent.

"I'm going to go and get a wash-cloth for you, my dear, and perhaps a glass of water," he said. "

"Oh, Niko don't go," she pouted, "Come to bed."

She reached out a hand for him, but he'd stayed back, knowing she would probably pull him onto the bed with her. He wasn't sure he could resist her for much longer. The woman had always had an unnatural power over his body. Not to mention that hold she had over his heart.

"Niko," she pleaded.

"Stay there," he said, as he went to the bathroom.

He grabbed a wash-cloth and wet it with some water, before filling a glass too, before going back to the bedroom. Helen was lying on the bed, her dark hair flayed out over the soft white pillows. She was asleep.

He smiled at how innocent and peaceful she looked sleeping. He sat on the bed next to her, and gentle removed her shoes, before tucking her under the covers.

"Sweet dreams, ljubav," he kissed her forehead.

He then removed his own shoes and jacket and settled into the chair near the bed for a night of watching her, to make sure she was okay. He smiled as he watched how she snuggled into the pillows. Perhaps he didn't need to sulk after all.

**Not sure why Nikola was sulking in the first place, but it worked for the story. :P**


	2. A Fortunate Recovery

**Another impromptu sequel, this time to my sequel, which has now become a sort of series I suppose. Because your reviews made me smile ... Hung-over Helen ensues! Anyway, enjoy!**

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**A Fortunate Recovery **

Helen groaned angrily at the marching band who seemed to have taken up residence in her head. She rolled over in her bed, snuggling closer to the warmth of her blankets and soft pillows. She then realised she wasn't in her own bed. Her sheets were of a much higher quality than these, despite however lovely they were, and she had a Victorian throwback four-poster. But wherever she was she was immensely comfortable and right now the thought of losing this warmth was utterly inconceivable.

She heard a hearty chuckle and squeaked. She could have sworn there was no one else in the bed with her. Unless, like Nigel, they had the power of invisibility. She wasn't sure why her thoughts were particularly erratic at the moment, but coupled with her pounding head-ache and dry throat, she could only deduce that she was hung-over.

She hadn't been this badly hung-over for a while now. In her long life-span she had certainly learnt to hold her liquor (which may actually have more to do with being friends with an alcoholic vampire). Which brought her back to the decidedly male chuckle...

Helen braved the lack of warmth as she poked her head up above her cocoon of blankets and pillows to investigate the source of the mockery.

There, in the chair in the hotel room (and she'd finally remembered she was supposed to be at a conference) was none other than her alcoholic vampire friend Nikola Tesla. He was regarding her with a mixture of amusement and concern, and something else her muddled mind couldn't quite decipher. She had to admit he looked quite adorable with his hair ruffled and his shirt undone.

"Why are you watching me sleep?" she demanded.

Despite the anger she'd tried to muster in that statement, she couldn't help but feel a fluttering in her chest at the thought of him watching her sleep. There was something sweet about it, if not a little creepy.

"You don't remember much of last night, do you?" he said. There was that chuckle again.

A panic washed over her as she strained to recall details of the previous night. It had been after a long day at the conference. They'd all gone to get a drink, or drinks, apparently. She'd had quite a few, the men seemed quite content to buy them for her, and she'd eventually lost track. She couldn't remember Nikola being there. But, then again, it didn't really surprise her either.

Then another thought occurred to her. Had they slept together? She looked over at his state of dress. But then why would he be in the chair? Unless she'd kicked him out. She remembered several partners musing at how insistent and volatile she could get in her drunken mood swings. Perhaps she had literally kicked him out of the bed.

Nikola watched in amusement as she thought it through. He could see the thoughts flash across her features as she had them. In all their years of knowing each other, he'd come to be able to read her very well.

"Nikola?" she said. Her voice was soft and sheepish.

"Yes, my dear?" he said. He knew what she was going to ask, but he wanted to hear her say it anyway. It was too much fun to play with Helen Magnus, even if only in this sense and not the sense he so desperately wanted.

"What did happen last night?" she said deciding to come straight to it.

He looked at her adorably mussed up appearance and wide blue eyes. As much as he would enjoy pretending they'd been together, if not just to see how she would react, he couldn't do that to her any more than he actually could have taken advantage of her.

"You were already pretty far gone by the time I found you," he said, "Had a group of men following you around like lost puppies." He wrinkled his nose. "Thank God I saved you from them or you might be waking up in one of their beds right now." He couldn't hide the disdain or disgust in his voice.

"Oh," she said, looking down at the bed she was sitting on, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "Thank you I guess."

"Nothing happened, Helen," he assured her, "I took you up here and you fell asleep pretty quickly."

Helen fiddled with the edges of her blanket which she was now wrapped in, much to Nikola's amusement. She nodded at him.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing," she shook her head. Then she winced. "My head hurts." He laughed.

"I'd be surprised if it didn't," he said, standing now.

"I feel like I was hit by ten stunners," she mumbled, crawling to the edge of the bed in an effort to get up.

"Well, I think the most your 'children' have ever managed on me is eight," he said. He was smoothing out the crinkles in his jacket.

Her effort to get up ended up with her tumbling off the bed and hitting the floor with an unceremonious 'thud'. Nikola jumped forward in concern and surprise, his jacket forgotten. Obviously, he hadn't expected her to actually roll off the bed.

She moaned as he crouched beside her.

"Helen, really," he scolded. She smiled up at him sheepishly.

"I miscalculated the distance to the edge of the bed," she said. He shook his head.

"Come on," he said, helping her up, "Let's get you up and into the shower. You'll feel better then."

She wriggled free of his hold once she was on her feet and wrinkled her nose at him, hands on hips, and a look of determination on her features.

"I can do it myself!" she said.

Then she looked around. She seemed to have noticed she wasn't in her own hotel room.

"Your bags are over there," he pointed to the side of the room. She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. "I got one of the bellboys to bring your things here earlier. I thought you'd want a fresh change of clothes, and I didn't want to leave you, or risk having some hormone-ridden teenage boy rifling through your things."

She wasn't sure whether to be mad or touched by that. So, instead, she marched over to her bags and rifled through them herself, selecting an outfit for the day.

Nikola watched her movements thoughtfully. He couldn't tell whether she was mad at him, or simply in an irritant mood due to her inevitable hangover. Helen always got snippy the day after heavy drinking, especially before her morning tea.

Nikola sighed as she shut the bathroom door. He busied himself dressing in a fresh suit as she showered and making himself presentable.

Helen emerged not too much later dressed in jeans and a deep blue blouse that brought out her eyes. He couldn't help but stare indiscreetly at her jean-clad legs and delicate curves. She was patting her hair dry with a towel and looked somewhat more alert.

"Feeling any better?" he said.

"I think it's down to feeling as though I've been hit to six stunners now," she said. "Though, I could do with some tea."

"Shall we go down to breakfast?" he suggested.

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The look on Helen's face after that first sip of tea would be forever ingrained in his mind. The pure, unmasked, satisfaction and contentment was breath-taking and it made his heart beat a little bit faster.

Nikola himself had deigned to sip on some coffee, mostly because Helen insisted he not drink wine this early, despite his protests of if not affecting him. But how could he deny her anything?

"I feel awful," Helen said, cradling the cup of tea in her hands as if it were a life saver.

"I think we've established that," Nikola mused.

"No, I mean I must have been causing a ruckus last night," she explained.

"There were quite a few drunken hoons around," he shrugged.

"Excuse me! Did you just lump me into that category?" she said. He grinned.

"Of course not," he said, "You're much more exciting and alluring drunk than a hoon."

"Thank you, I suppose," she said, eyeing him. He was glad to see the sparkle was back in her eyes.

"I'm just stating facts, my dear," he said. She reached out across the table and grabbed his hand.

"No, really," she said, sincerely, "Thank you for taking care of me last night."

He looked into her eyes and smiled softly.

"Helen," he said, "Of course. You know I will always be there for you." She smiled. "Not to mention having you lick salt off me was a positively delightful experience." He added with a grin.

Helen paled.

"I did not," she said.

"Oh, I assure you, you did," he said. "I'm not complaining. In fact, any time you want to lick anything off of me I'll be happy to oblige."

Helen shot him a look and took another sip of her tea. Why did she get the feeling Nikola would be teasing her about this for a long time?

She knew that he was probably leaving something (or several things) out about last night. She knew herself, and had had enough friends recant amusing tales of her drunk. She could get quite wild. She lost her inhibitions and her carefully constructed wall crumbled. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened when Nikola had showed up, aside from her licking salt from him. Because if she had lost her inhibitions, she wasn't sure she would have been able to resist him, when she was barely able to now.

But, despite his joking about it, nothing serious had happened. He wouldn't take advantage of her like that. He always showered her with lewd comments and innuendo laden remarks, but when it came down to it, Nikola Tesla was a gentleman. She smiled.

She couldn't ignore the fluttering of her heart at the thought of doing body-shots from Nikola's lean muscled body. Perhaps she'd have to try that again, but this time, she'd have to make sure she remembered it.


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